


The Lost Temple

by oxygenforthewicked



Series: Smoke and Mirrors [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arlathan, Because we all know with Solas it's always a slow burn, But some good stuff too, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pain, Post-Trespasser, Rating May Change, Slaves, Slow Burn, Spoilers, Suffering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:17:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8447392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxygenforthewicked/pseuds/oxygenforthewicked
Summary: Ellana Lavellan was racing to the top of the mountain, deep in the Frostbacks. Darkness was following close behind her, and the world and the people that she had grown to know and love were all gone - destroyed to make way for whatever world he had planned. She knew she had to find Solas, find a way to change his plans. And she knew how. She was going to kill him. ***In this is a post-Trespasser fic, Solas succeeds in his plans and restores the world of elves, but soon realizes that not everything went according to plan. When an ancient artifact goes missing, he comes face-to-face with her again - and she has no idea who he is, but they will need to work together to stitch reality back into place and face a new force that threatens their world.Most characters and situations belong to Bioware. No copyright infringement intended.





	1. Prologue

_Lightning flashed as Ellana Lavellan flew up the mountain on horseback. She gripped the slippery reins tightly, ignoring her drenched leathers that were making her body shiver from the escalating cold._

_The world around her was no more, and demons hissed and shrieked in the valleys below. Anger thrummed within her. She didn’t know what exactly she would find at the top of the mountain, or if she could bring an end to this apocalypse – but she had to try. If anything, she could take him down with her. Creators knew she wanted to after all he had done._

_Arriving at the top, her horse slowed as the ground began to level. She stared ahead, her hair in damp strings around her face. He stood just ahead with his back to her, golden armor gleaming and his hands clasped behind him. He didn’t flinch as she slid off her horse and landed in the mud with a loud smack. She gripped her bow tightly with her mechanical left hand as she carefully stepped toward him. Dagna’s handiwork never failed, and she hoped it didn’t fail her now. She drew and arrow and nocked it, her heart almost breaking as she aimed it for his head. Solas turned around then, his gray eyes sad._

_“Vhenan,” he breathed, taking a step closer to her._

_“Stay right there!” she yelled, hot tears streaming down her face. She hadn’t realized she was crying._

_“Please,” he said, reaching out to her._

_“No! You did this! This storm, this destruction,” she said through gritted teeth. “This world wasn’t beyond hope, these people they are – were – growing. You didn’t want to see, but now you have destroyed us all. And for what? Because you are bound to the will of a dead goddess?”_

_“Ellana…”_

_“You’re a fucking hypocrite!” she barked back. Thunder roared above them, shaking the very earth they stood on._

_“Ellana,” he repeated, continuing to step closer to her._

_Her arrow flew through the air and sank deeply in the unarmored section of his shoulder. He let out a small groan and ripped out the arrow, but continued walking. She nocked several more arrows and let them fly, leaving him slowed and bloody as he continued forward, removing each arrow after it sank into his body, blood staining his armor. By the time he reached her, he collapsed to his knees._

_She drew her dagger and pointed it at him, sobbing quietly. He pressed his forehead to the tip and stared up at her, his gray eyes full of sorrow._

_The darkness that had been chasing her was wrapped around the mountain, until there was only a dim light above them._

_“What is happening?” she whispered, her voice the only sound in the never-ending abyss._

_“The world we knew is dying,” he replied, “to make way for a different world.”_

_The darkness swirled around them. If she moved at all, she would be lost in the darkness. She dropped the knife. She was weak. But there would be no saving the world, now. Solas stood and wrapped her in his arms, her face buried in the damp furs slung across his chest. He smelled of forests, flowers, and burning herbs. He smelled like home._

_“Ar lath, ma vhenan,” he whispered to her._

_She closed her eyes, and then…_

_Nothing._


	2. The World of the Elves

Pink clouds rolled across the skies as the sun set, the light gleaming off of the golden city of Arlathan. The spires seemed to touch the heavens, the color igniting the horizon like fire. An elven woman gazed at it from the field where she sat, the wind pushing across the grass, wisps of her dark hair floating around her head. She blinked, as though waking from a dream, and frowned. _Just a daydream,_ she thought. It always felt like more than a daydream, or maybe a vision, but something about it was so nightmarish that she never let herself think about it for too long. Her arms rested on her knees and she ran her fingers across the scar that stretched in a straight line across her hand. She sighed and laid back on the grass, watching the leaves glitter in the evening light. Anything to push back the darkness that tried to grip her mind.

“Ellana!” a voice said behind her. She winced. _The Keeper._

Keeper Deshanna padded closer, staff in hand. She was an older woman with gray hair that was always pulled back in a tight bun and robes that covered her from her neck to her ankles. Ellana had been chosen to be the Keeper’s First – an apprentice of sorts – and she would one day also be the lead curator of ancient artifacts. Not what she had wanted, but close enough.    

“Yes, Keeper?” Ellana said, rising to her feet.

“We need to examine that artifact you found. The Council wants to see our research as soon as possible.”

She chuckled. “It’s just an old scroll.”

“Yes, but you know how they are,” Deshanna said with a sigh, lifting her eyebrows.

Ellana nodded and followed the Keeper across the field to a large stone building that resembled a small church. The Keeper had chosen it long ago because of the strange paintings that were erected on the walls and the stained glass. Much of the glass depicted a human woman with a pointed crown. They assumed the woman was an ancient human goddess, but none of the humans seemed to know who she was.

As they entered, Ellana felt a strong sense of delight as the smell of old books engulfed her. It was strange to find joy in such a smell, but sometimes it kept her from feeling as if she was going to lose her mind pouring over countless books and assessing artifacts each day for the rest of her existence. She lived for the days when she could go out and explore the ancient ruins – drawing out the artwork that was carved into stone walls, collecting aged objects that have faced the weathering of time, and unlocking secrets that were meant to stay hidden.

She stood beside Deshanna as they opened the aged scroll again, the words faded beneath the beautifully painted images with gleaming golds and greens that shone in the dim light. She squinted at the writing, trying her best to make out the words. The Keeper’s voice began, reading off a section of words on the page.

 

_“Oh heavenly mother, guide us into peace  
Let us rest from the fighting that will never cease _

_Oh brother, Falon’Din, give us a swift death  
Grant us this one last request_

_Let us follow you into the shadows  
Lest we follow him to the gallows_

_Guide us where the spirits form, and the skies part  
Where there is neither wolf nor halla, bear nor hart_

_When the day and night are ripping at the seams  
In the land of endless dreams _

_Graves of emerald await thee  
And my love will find the path to me”_

Ellana raised her eyebrows. “A final plea at the end of the great war? But no one lost that war. Why would she be pleading for a mercy killing?”

Deshanna nodded. “Indeed. It must have been the one before Fen’Harel wrote the treaties, and after her people were pushed back to the mountains without anywhere to run. But it’s almost as if…”

“Pardon me,” a masculine voice said behind them. “But does that happen to be one of the ancient scrolls of Ghilan’nain?” They turned to see a young human man in a simple tunic and leggings standing before them, his arms crossed as he eyed the sphere. His hair was combed and a neatly kept mustache curled below his nose. Two elven guards stood behind him, looking particularly annoyed.

The Keeper raised her eyebrow. “And who are you?”

“Oh, where are my manners,” he said, uncrossing his arms and bowing slightly. “My name is Dorian. I have been assigned to you by the Council.”  

“I have no need of a slave,” she said slowly. “Why would they send you here?”

“Well,” he said, his brown eyes widening with what was almost fear, “my former master… didn’t quite care for having me around. ‘Too bold’ he said, and didn’t quite care for me having magic. The council saw your request for extra help and decided to assign me to you. I’ve read many books on magic and magical artifacts, so I can help…”

“I asked for a second _apprentice_ ,” Deshanna said icily. “Not a _human slave._ ”

Dorian’s face paled. “I apologize. They didn’t have anywhere else to put me, especially with the whole being a mage thing, I was simply…”

“Doing as you were told, I am aware,” she snapped. His eyes dropped to the floor, his cheeks red. “You can tell the council when you return to them that they will either send me an _apprentice_ or _no one at all.”_

Ellana couldn’t look away from the man. Something about his eyes hit her hard. She felt as though she could trust him, as though they had met long ago. The guards grabbed his arms and began to shove him toward the door. It really wasn’t her place…

“Wait,” she called to the guards, giving them pause. She turned to Deshanna and dropped her voice. “Keeper, if I may?”

The Keeper snapped her face toward her. “What?”

“It’s just… He is a man of learning, and a mage of all things. You and I both know that alone is rare to find in a human. And he has a good eye for ancient writings…”

“Merely a good guess,” she said, her brows furrowing.

Ellana turned to face her. “He doesn’t have anywhere else to go. We can’t very well just cast him out. Let him prove himself first before we make a decision.”

Her ice blue eyes softened. She pondered for a moment and finally let out a huff as she turned back to Dorian. “Very well, you may stay. You must earn your keep and prove yourself to be useful. So long as you do that, you will not be a slave under this roof. I don’t particularly condone the practice. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said quietly with another bow as the guards released him. “I thank you greatly for this immense kindness.”

Deshanna turned back to her. “I must return to the scrolls. See that he finds his new chambers.”

She nodded and the Keeper stormed out of the temple behind the two guards. Ellana looked back at Dorian, who still had his eyes downcast.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

There was a small flicker of a frown. “I am. Miss…?”

“Ellana,” she smiled and motioned toward the corridor across the room. “Follow me, I’ll show you to your chambers.”

“Chambers?”

She nodded as she walked down the corridor. “There’s room enough here for one Keeper and two apprentices.”

“I see. I should… thank you for helping me.”

She turned around. “No need. Keeper Deshanna is harsh at first, but if you show that you are worth her time, she will warm up to you. She’s never owned a slave a day in her life – and I imagine she never wants to. So the Council assigning you here was like a slap in the face, but her anger was not aimed towards you.”

Dorian nodded, eyes downcast, as she opened a door and led him inside.

“Make yourself at home,” she said. “You must have had a long journey.”

“But the Keeper…”

“Will not be opposed to letting you rest,” she finished. He blinked at her and she motioned to the bed. “Let me know if you need anything.”

***

The next morning, the three of them sat around a small wooden table quietly eating breakfast. Ellana nibbled at the quiche in front of her.  

“I found something in the scroll last night,” the old elf said, sipping her tea delicately.

Ellana raised her eyebrows.

“The passage we read – it wasn’t a plea at all, but rather directions.”

“How can you be sure?”

“It was written like a poem or a prayer,” she said, brows furrowing, “but the place she described is very real – I believe that we may need to go investigate.” She smiled and turned to Dorian. “And I’m sure you could be of great use to us on this journey as well."

“But how do you know it’s not just some ancient graveyard?”

The Keeper raised one eyebrow. “Because the place she speaks of is near one of the temples of Fen’Harel.”

“I thought most of his temples had been destroyed?” Dorian said.

“Most, not all. But we won’t be going into the temple – that is very important.”

“I know, I know,” Ellana sighed, poking her quiche with her fork.

Dorian frowned and looked back and forth between them. “Will we be cursed if we enter the temple or something?” he gave a soft chuckle. “Or perhaps struck by lightning?”

“We may as well be,” the Keeper sighed. “Entrance to those temples can only be granted by the Council – which takes months to hear back about, and most requests are rejected. Dangerous wards are set outside every one so that only those accompanied by a council official with them can enter.”

“That seems a bit extreme. What do they think you will steal?”

“Isn’t that the question of the hour?” Deshanna chuckled. “Either way, we’ll be too far away from it to trigger the wards. However, we may get to see it with our own eyes.” There was a twinkle in her eye. None of them had seen one of the temples before, but Ellana had read about them many times as a child. Her stomach twisted with excitement.

***

After loading several satchels onto the three saddled harts, Ellana pulled herself up onto her own hart and squinted in the bright morning light. Deshanna’s hart trotted forward and they followed her down the hill beside the church. Before them lay a dirt path that stretched for miles, surrounded by thick, grassy fields and wildflowers.  

They traveled for hours along the dirt road, and Ellana marveled at the dense forests on one side and the open sea on the other. The day grew hotter as the sun rose high in the sky, and they were relieved when they finally made their way into one of the dense forests. Ellana sighed and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow.

“So how did you become a keeper, Keeper Deshanna?” Dorian asked.

The Keeper chuckled. “I was the apprentice of another Keeper.”

“Well, yes, but how did you become an apprentice? How does the whole thing… work?”

“We are chosen at a young age,” the Keeper replied, “usually if we show signs of potential or great intelligence. We undergo tests and trials to see where our greatest strengths are, and then we are assigned a mentor. There are keepers of history, magic, politics… and so on.”

“And I take it you’re a Keeper of History?”

“On the contrary – I am a Keeper of Culture.”

“Ah,” he replied. “I suppose that makes more sense. And you, Ellana? Was it the same process or have times changed?”

“My you ask a lot of questions,” Deshanna laughed.

“It was the same,” Ellana chuckled. “Except most children’s parents are proud when their child is chosen to be an apprentice. Mine… were not. They are nomads living in the southern forests. They don’t care much for civilization.”

“Why is that?”

“My father was a slave,” Ellana said simply. “My mother was a noble. She bought his freedom and saved him from his cruel master. They left Arlathan, and vowed to never be part of it again.”

“I see,” Dorian murmured.

“But they understood that my life was mine to control, same with my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

She nodded. “Taelan.”

Her lips curled back into a grin and her eyes lit up as she continued. “He’s always been a wild one, my brother. He chose to be a nomad, too, to my parents’ relief. He travels around the world, learning things in his own way. They tried to make him a Keeper, too, you see.”

“And he didn’t want that,” Dorian finished.

“Oh no, he wouldn’t have it. He hates rules and order. The Council would have despised him.”

“But I would have gladly taken him on,” Deshanna chuckled. “Anyone who would give the Council hell is good in my book.”

Deshanna’s hart slowed to a stop, and she held her hand out to them. “I think we’re close.”

She slid off her hart and both Ellana and Dorian followed suit. They tied them up to the trees and pulled their bags off, strapping them to their backs. Ellana gripped her staff readily as they made their way down a small hill, reaching a river bank.

“This way,” the Keeper said, motioning to her right. They followed her up the bank, hopping over fallen logs and large boulders.

The group reached a small waterfall, and the breeze lifted the small wisps of hair off of Ellana’s face. The water was beautiful, and she smiled at the light that produced a small rainbow over the lake below. 

Dorian tapped her shoulder and pointed ahead of them, his eyes wide.

She looked ahead and her breath hitched. _The temple of Fen’Harel._

The temple was fantastic. In the front, there were enormous statues of howling wolves, marking the start to a moss-covered pathway with intricate designs carved into the stone. The doors at the end were gold with intricate designs similar to the pathway that were etched into the metal. The rest of the temple looked similar to a palace, with curling spires like that of Arlathan, and curved glass roofs mixed with traditional marble roofs. The temple was nestled in the thick forest, but it seemed to glow beautifully in the waning sunlight.

“Gorgeous,” Deshanna breathed. “But we must get going. Even lingering here too long will alert the Council of our presence.”

Ellana nodded and managed to tear her eyes away from the temple. The three wandered down a separate path that led them away from the cliffside. They pushed past the foliage and shrubs with only the sound of distant water and chirping birds filling their ears. Sunlight began trickling through the dense canopy above, dust and bugs dancing through the thin beams. The path opened up to a field that was covered with purple wildflowers. Ellana frowned as they looked toward the center. It may have once been a shrine of some sort, or a small temple. What remained was no more than a stone skeleton of a building with ivy crawling up the crumbling walls. At the center of the ruin was some kind of pedestal made of a dark metal. It was shaped almost like a goblet with an abnormally long neck, and it had been decorated with its own set of vines. In it sat an orb.

The orb wasn’t ornate or special – it had curved lines etched into it, but nothing of distinguishable meaning. Ellana stepped forward to inspect it further. As she walked, she swore she could hear whispers. Unintelligible whispers in a language too ancient or too foreign for her to completely understand. But they were gentle – kind. She reached her fingers out and her skin softly grazed the surface of the orb, and it began to glow softly. She retracted her hand just enough to hover above it, and rich emerald sparks flickered from her fingertips. Images flashed through her mind – such strange things. Howling wind, snow beneath her feet, the cool air of a mountain pass… she blinked. _How strange._ She rested her hand fully on the orb.

Suddenly, in a blast of green that shattered her vision, the world went black.

***

_Snow crunched beneath her feet as she marched forward. The icy wind pressed against her face as she pushed forward against it. She climbed farther up the mountainside, her lungs burning up within her. Gripping a rock just in front of her, she steadied herself as she reached the top. Before her laid countless mountain faces, white-capped and secluded from the rest of civilized society, all surrounding a single fortress – a castle that was guarded by the very elements themselves, a safe haven for all those who were lost and needed help. She looked behind her to see a crowd of people, all looking to her. They were a mixture of races unlike anything she had ever seen – elves, humans, dwarves, and even one person who had very large horns. She sucked in a breath, suddenly aware of all their eyes. They were in pain, starving, tired. But there was a strange sense of hope lingering in their eyes that shrouded the darkness. Beside her, an elven man stood, carrying a staff. His gray eyes were older than time itself, and he, too, was looking her the same way – as though she had all the answers, as though she were his only salvation. Suddenly the skin on her hand began to scream with pain, and her knees buckled beneath her. She looked down and saw the scar on her hand split open wide, sickly green magic pouring from it._

_The image of the mountains swirled around her, fading into something else. Green, black, the deepest shade of crimson - a cyclone around her, towering high above, eating her alive. Wolves howled in the distance, their growls getting closer, their eyes glowing through the air around her, piercing her very soul. She looked back and saw the people – the people who had all seen her as their one guiding light – burning in flames that reached for the heavens. More wolves walked out of the flames and closed in, gnashing their teeth, ready to tear her apart. She let out a scream that was soon paired with the sound of ripping flesh._

***

Ellana gasped and sat straight up, her breathing strained. She blinked as she took in her surroundings. She was back in her bed at the church. Her breathing became even more uneven and labored and her muscles began to tremble, her throat feeling as if it was closing up. The death, the fire, the darkness…

She stifled a sob.

“You’re awake,” a soft voice came from behind her. She whipped around, her heart threatening to leap from her chest. Dorian stood beside the bed, concern written across his face.

“When did I… did we…” her throat was dry.

“We got back a few hours ago. When you wouldn’t wake up, we figured it would be best to bring you home as quick as possible. Deshanna examined you but nothing appeared to be the matter with you physically. She’ll be glad to know that you are awake, though.”

“The orb…” she managed. “I saw…”

“What did you see?” he said, sitting next to her on the bed, his brown eyes intrigued – and concerned.   

“Death,” she said, her voice breaking. “Just… death.”

His face paled. Instantly he schooled his expression and stood up, holding out a hand. She blinked at the hand, her limbs still shaking, and took it. Dorian gave her a sad smile. “You know, I have always found that tea usually helps settle the mind. Does the Keeper keep any in the kitchen?”

She nodded slightly.

“Come, let’s get your mind off it.”

She followed him down the corridor to the kitchen that had a faint smell of elfroot. He sat her down at the small table and began searching the cupboards for anything that looked like tea.

“The one on the far left,” Ellana said after watching him search for several minutes.

He clicked his tongue and reached into the cupboard, pulling out a glass case of herbal tea. After pouring water into a large mug, he picked it up and she watched as he let his magic bring the small cup of water to a slight boil. With a satisfied smile, he set down the mug and poured some tea leaves in the cup before placing a small lid over it. He crossed the room with her tea and set it in front of her.

Sitting across from her, he folded his hands in his lap and didn’t speak a word as she held her cup of tea. When she knew it was steeped enough, she lifted the lid slightly and blew on it, ice coming from her lips and bringing it down to a drinkable temperature. Sipping the hot liquid, she sighed as it calmed her still-quivering muscles.

She looked up at Dorian. It was possible he wanted her to talk about what she saw – but wouldn’t press her too much, especially if it would be too troubling for her to even think about. She frowned slightly.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said, “but some part of me feels that I can trust you. But that’s so silly – I barely know you.” She chuckled slightly as she took another sip of tea.

“And yet, the part that is even stranger is that I feel as though I can trust you, too,” he said, raising one eyebrow. “Perhaps it is because I sense that trust – or perhaps it is because upon meeting you for the very first time you decided to stick your neck out for me. So perhaps you are a particularly trusting person and should re-evaluate your life choices.”

She laughed. “You might be on to something. But no – it’s something more. Something I can’t explain. I feel as though we’ve met before.”

Dorian frowned. “If you don’t mind me asking… what _exactly_ did you see in your vision? I, of course, understand if you’re still too shaken to discuss it, but I am dreadfully curious.”

She sucked in a breath. “I saw mountains,” she said. “I saw mountains, and people. People of all races – elves, dwarves, humans, even a race I’ve never even seen before – marching together, as equals, and following me through the mountains. We were… going to some kind of keep. A keep in the sky. And then…” she clutched her teacup tightly, the warmth nearly burning her skin. “And then there were wolves everywhere. The people were burning behind me, and all that remained was darkness and death.”

Dorian’s frown deepened. “What do you think it meant?”

“I’m not sure,” she sighed. “But I often get dreams like that – visions of a world where every race is together, united towards some cause. Sometimes it’s exhilarating, imagining such a world. Other times it only ends in fire.” She rubbed her forehead.

“Strange,” he breathed, his eyes cast downward as though he were deep in thought.

“What is it?” she said, tilting her head to the side.

“Nothing,” he waved his hand. “I mean… perhaps not. I’ve heard stories. They may have just been an old wives' tales. Tales of people having visions of that nature, where all the races are intermingled. Some of the slaves tell the stories, so we can dream of a better world when we sleep – a world where there is no slavery. A world where we are all free.”

“I’m so sorry, Dorian,” she said softly.

He gave her a small smile. “That dream started for me yesterday,” he said with a chuckle. “Thanks to you. I don’t imagine that will be the case for many, but I don’t know what the future holds for my kind. In the meantime, I do happen to know of several books out there that tell stories of the things that they’ve seen. I don’t know if it will help with the orb at all, but if it gave you visions of the same nature, it couldn’t hurt to look.”

“There are records?” she said. “Wouldn’t they easily be dismissed, especially if it shows a world without slavery?”

He shrugged. “I’d imagine so. It’s possible someone made the whole thing up. But that doesn’t explain why you’re having similar visions.”

Ellana pondered that for a moment. “If they were dismissed and deemed dangerous,” she said, “they would have been burned.”

“And thus will never be found,” Dorian finished.

“But,” she said, crossing her arms. “If they weren’t, there is a chance they would be kept in the Great Library in the city.”

“A very slight chance,” he said.

“Even still, we would be that much closer to finding out more about this orb – and we could look into other leads.”

“Like the wolves you saw,” he said, his brows furrowing. “Isn’t that the symbol of Fen’Harel?”

“Yes,” she said with a frown. “It is.”

“Curious,” he said. “In any event, Deshanna has been waiting for you to wake up. We should meet with her and tell her what you know. It’s possible she might want to know more about our theory, too.”


End file.
